


(Untitled) (Destiel fan fic)

by ceirdwenfc



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Season 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 13:54:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceirdwenfc/pseuds/ceirdwenfc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel returns, Dean shows him his new room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Untitled) (Destiel fan fic)

**Author's Note:**

> (Note: Fluffy Destiel fic. My first. Be gentle. The part with the angel blade I took from thanfiction's head canon. It may have also switched POV and may be a little repetitive. Feedback happily accepted. Okay, not happily. Readily accepted.)

"Hey, Sammy! What the hell took you so long? They're groceries, not the Holy Grail! Need any –"

Dean stopped speaking when he looked up from the book he was thumbing through when he saw Castiel walk in behind Sam, helping with the groceries. He was more than a little surprised.

"Cas. Where've –"

Sam exchanged a look with him, interrupting. "Yeah, Dean, look what the cat dragged in. He was standing outside just now when I got back from Dales. He looks hungry, doesn't he, Dean?"

Cas made brief eye contact with Dean; he remained silent, but with a quirk of his mouth, Dean softened.

"Hungry? Burger, Cas?"

There was a small smile on Cas' face now – the hesitant, we-left-things-uncertain-but-things-might-be-okay-yes-we-should-eat-can't-talk-with-food-in-my-mouth-I-should-shut-up-now-but-I'm-not-actually-talking STOP! 

Cas nodded and his stomach rumbled as if on cue to illustrate how long it had been since he had anything to eat.

"Show you around, Cas?" Sam offered once Dean took the bags and headed into their massive kitchen.

Cas nodded and followed Sam through the communications room and the library.

From the kitchen, Dean could hear Sam telling Cas about finding the place, asking if he'd ever heard of the Men of Letters, how did he manage to find them – 

That's a good question, Dean thought, preparing three plates. How did he find them?

He rolled his eyes. As good as it was to see Castiel, there was something off about him. He was too quiet. He was too aloof. Another eye roll and a smirk as he tried to remember a moment of Castiel's time with them that wasn't aloof or reserved.

Sam's eyes sparkled and he licked his lips when Dean entered with the last plate. Dean smiled to himself, seeing how much his cooking was finally appreciated.

Sam grabbed three beers and joined Dean and Castiel who had already sat down at the large table and began to eat. Dean enjoyed his new found status as Chef, and waited for Cas' reaction, and despite the angel not needing food for nourishment like he and Sam did, he could have sworn that Cas' face lit up in something that Dean could only describe as a four year old's joy at seeing Santa Claus.

The conversation went around and around carefully avoiding the subject of their last meeting and the death of Samandriel, although Dean could take it no longer. His burger gone, his beer twice gone, he had been watching Cas finish off the last bit of onion and roll pinched between his thumb and forefinger. Cas licked his fingers and when Dean was caught watching his tongue flick over his thumb one last time, he reddened, but still managed to look directly into his eyes.

"Where've you been, Cas?"

Castiel took a deep breath, breaking off from Dean's stare to take another sip from his bottle.

"This is a nice place," he said, looking around but not answering the question. "Will you live here now?"

"Yeah," Sam answered. "It is nice, isn't it? Dean's got his own room and everything," and after a pause, he repeated his brother's question, "Where have you been, Cas? After Samandriel's…..death, we were worried for you, man."

Castiel went to stand up, but was stopped by Dean's hand over his, not hard, not forceful, not anything but there, although Dean was surprised that at the moment of contact, Cas flinched like he'd been stung by a bee.

He didn't pull his hand back, but he continued to avoid Dean's gaze.

"Uh, I need to get back."

"Get back where?"

"Just…."

Dean injected with a wide smile. "You can't leave until I show you my awesome room."

"It is awesome," Sam added, clearing up their dishes.

"Dean, I –"

Dean wasn't taking no for an answer and didn't wait for any answer, leading the way through the doorway and leaving Cas no choice but to do his whooshy thing or follow.

Dean watched Cas out of the corner of his eye as he followed reluctantly, looking back for a second to Sam for some kind of support, but Sam just shrugged.

"Dean," he appealed.

"Come on, Cas. It won't take long," Dean insisted.

"There's….Dean…uh, there's stuff I've got to do, important stuff. I've got to get back."

Dean stopped in the corridor and turned to face Cas. "What's that? The important stuff?"

"I…um….just…stuff. Just angel stuff."

"Angel stuff?" He scoffed, and turned towards the rooms.

"Yeah," he answered, now actually sounding convinced. "But uh yeah thanks for the burger. It was…..good."

Dean stopped again outside his door, raising an eyebrow. "Good? Just good?"

"Good," Cas stammered. "Not good?" He looked confused.

"How 'bout great? Not great?" Dean shook his head for emphasis, and Cas looked more confused.

Cas thought that perhaps he was not getting a very obvious joke like he usually didn't get their humor and was always messing up a pun or something, but Dean seemed kind of hurt. Troubled, he tried again, "It was, well, it, um, it was, I mean, yes, of course, it was a wonderful meat patty and the three types of tomatoes combined with the sharpness of the cheese, well, it was very good. I mean great. It was great."

Dean smiled, pleased with himself, motioning for Cas to follow him into his room.

"You noticed the tomatoes?"

"Of course. How could I not?"

Dean shook his head and stepped aside to let Cas wander around the big room and explore on his own, picking up the picture of his four year old self and his mother, running a finger along the cardboard cover of his favorite vinyl album, admiring his weaponry, his eye lingering on Dean's first sawed off shotgun that he'd always been so proud of.

When his gaze moved to the blade he used and took from Purgatory, he looked back at Dean. Dean was already watching him.

A small smile crossed his lips. "I used that to hack my way through Purgatory to find you. You shouldn't have stayed."

He reached his hand out to touch his friend's shoulder.

Cas nodded, but his response was not in the affirmative. "I had to stay. There was much I needed to repent for. There still is." His voice trailed off, and Dean squeezed him where his hand still rested.

He didn't shake Dean's hand off, but he moved in such a way that it dislodged and they both let out a sigh. "I need to go, Dean. Now."

"Cas, you just got here."

"Take this," he said suddenly. "For your wall."

The silver shone brightly and glinted as with one impressive movement the angel blade fell from the arm of Cas' trench coat, Cas grabbing it deftly in his right hand, which he then flipped it, properly catching it with his left hand, then handing it delicately to Dean, hilt first.

Dean was silently impressed with the switch from hesitant and awkward to powerful Angel and finally to gentle friend as he took the blade from Cas with as much reverence as it was given.

"Thank you, Cas."

He placed the blade on the shelf below his other blades and Cas turned to leave, but stopped when Dean called out to him.

"Cas! When are you coming back?"

"I don't know, Dean."

"You know, you always have a place here. No matter what. You know that, right? Cas, buddy?"

"I hoped. It's nice to hear, though. Goodbye Dean."

"Wait, Cas."

"Dean." There was an impatience in his voice and a little frustration, and then their eyes met. Dean was caught off guard by the intensity of Cas' gaze. "Dean. I must go. Now. And I don't know if I'm coming back."

There was a long moment where they stood in their respective spots watching the other one, Dean not sure if he should do something or say something, but Cas was leaving and he didn't want him to leave. There were so many things he wanted to say to his friend; things that were there, that had been there for seemingly forever that just never were able to be spoken. And who knew when he'd be back? His thoughts were interrupted by Cas' sudden movement toward him.

He was grabbed and pushed against the door jamb and Dean's first instinct was to lash out, but something kept his hands at his side. There was something in the way Cas was looking at him and then his surprise was complete when Cas' hand on his collarbone relaxed and his other hand reached up to trace a scar on his cheek. He was still feeling a bit stupefied when Cas' lips met his – they were softer than he'd expected, and tasted of mint, and why he had any expectations in the first place he didn't know, but they were softer and they moved against his with a determination that Dean envied, yet tried to match. When Cas' hand moved from his face around his back, pulling him closer, that was all Dean needed. Dean didn't know what Cas knew was expecting his reaction to be and he didn't know himself until he loosened the always-backwards tie, and pulled Cas to him until they were against each other, with nowhere else to go, their lips still locked, exploring the other's mouths.

How could he never have noticed that Cas was slightly shorter than he was? He felt the strength in his shoulders and across his back, the power inside that Cas was evidently holding back. His untended beard scratched Dean, but it felt oddly evocative as Dean tilted his head back when Cas nudged his chin up and out of the way. He felt as much as heard the low growl of the unsaid when Cas touched his neck with his lips, and Dean wanted to taste his skin and feel it – was it all rough like his unshaven face? But that was the vessel. Don't go there, he thought; too much for right now. This felt…..this felt right and so so good, he didn't want it to end. He begged himself to think about nothing and follow what he was feeling at the edges of Castiel's touches. He ignored Sam's footsteps, which went as quickly as they came and he was breathless when their bodies parted. When Cas pulled away, Dean felt his knees buckle and was surprised that he didn't fall to them.

Cas took another step back, avoiding Dean's gaze.

"You can't leave."

"I'm sorry, Dean. I don't have a choice."

And with a whoosh of his wings, he was gone.


End file.
